Wicked Eyes

Ennaly awoke when two young Elven servants entered her room. Startled, she opened her eyes, but Solas was nowhere to be seen. She didn't know when he'd left, if it was after she'd fallen asleep, or if he had left in early morning. Her own night had been quiet and dreamless, and she suspected she had Solas' magic to thank for that.

The Elven servants were very chatty and brought breakfast while they filled her a bath. Ennaly wanted to help out, since it would be easy for her to heat water, but the girls ordered her to stay seated and enjoy breakfast.

Ennaly didn't like it, but at least the girls looked well cared for. When asked, they told her that the Comtesse had rescued them from an orphanage, and she had been nothing but kind to them. It helped Ennaly relax more when they bathed and scrubbed her and rubbed scented oils in her skin and hair, with the alluring scent of something floral and woody.

All she could do was give herself over to their care. They were skilled and tended her fingernails and toenails and lacquered them purple. Ennaly was alright with most, until they approached her face with coloured liquids and powders matching her skin tone. It was clear they felt awkward having to cover her Vallaslin, but with a saddened heart, Ennaly convinced them it was alright. At least no blushes could creep from under her mask if her skin was fully covered. They gave her a stick of rosy pink lipstick to reapply, if necessary, together with a small mirror.

The dress, of course, was gorgeous, now complete with the pieces of ceremonial armour attached. The girls fashioned her hair in a half-updo, reaching the low back of the gown, her skin now only showing when she was moving. They fawned over her and dreamily wondered how it must be to dance in the Winter Palace, dressed like Elven royalty. Not wanting to disillusion them, Ennaly smiled but kept her silence.

All in all, it took hours before she was done and could look at herself in the mirror. Usually, Ennaly's figure was hidden by loose tunics and her breasts slightly flattened by supportive wrappings during travel and fighting. It was strange to see herself like this, her figure highlighted by the cut of the dress. It was made for Elves, after all, and the shape did her figure more justice than a Human gown would.

But strangest of all was her own face. For the fact that there was something on it, she considered it the other way around. The purple lines of her Vallaslin had decorated her face for nearly half her life. Seeing herself without, covered by make-up, she felt bare and oddly vulnerable, like some ever-present part of herself was gone.

At last, Josephine and Leliana, both wearing gorgeous gowns of their own, took her downstairs, where most of the others were already waiting.

"At least I am glad we are wearing ceremonial armour," Cassandra said, picking at the fastening of a decorative bracer.

Looking around the room, they were a collected force of mostly back, with white and gold accents and a purple sash, the Inquisitor's colour. While being unified, all had a personal flair to their outfits. They were all wearing black knee-high boots, even, Ennaly saw to her surprise, Solas. She was glad she was allowed her bare feet, for she would never be able to walk, let alone dance, on any shoes.

Cassandra's outfit consisted of white breeches and a long black coat that flared out like a skirt, with armour pieces on top. Varric's coat and shirt were a more formal fashion of his normal style, and Bull… It was quite remarkable seeing him in a black, straight-necked coat with golden epaulettes as opposed to his normal bare chest. Just as Ennaly expected, Dorian wore the most lavish outfit of all, an asymmetric suit that filled him perfectly.

By this point, it wasn't even strange to see Solas in his formal outfit, considering all the outfits she'd seen him wear in the Fade, and helped take off. If anything, this outfit was less elaborate than anything before, if only because the magical effect of the fabrics couldn't be replicated. Like her own outfit, his had an unmistakable Elven flair to it, a black shirt with white, wide sleeves, cuffed at the wrist.

Grinning widely at her, Dorian found his way to the bottom of the stairs, bowed, and took her hand. He spun her around in a circle, allowing the skirts to flare out, and made several dancing steps before he stopped her right in front of Solas.

"You look astonishingly beautiful, milady Inquisitor," Dorian said, kissing her hand. "Doesn't she?" he added sharply, looking at the Elf next to him.

"Naturally," Solas said while casually leaning against the bannister of the opposite set of stairs. "Though that hardly came as a surprise."

Ennaly smiled a little awkwardly at Solas, but all tension was removed when she saw the look in his eyes, burning with love, longing and lust. But there was something more. He held his breath in surprise, but why? He'd seen her dressed in Elven gowns, had done so himself. His eyes danced over her cheeks, and Ennaly realised that her Vallaslin was covered. Did she appear more beautiful to him without?

"I just feel naked," she stated, uncertain what she thought of that.

"Naked? Your dress isn't that revealing," Dorian replied.

Annoyed, Ennaly pointed at her cheekbones. "My face is naked. I feel like a city Elf. I've had my Vallaslin for half my life now."

"Your beauty isn't tied to a few purple lines on your face," Dorian replied soothingly.

"But part of my identity is."

Solas just looked at her silently but intensely, with that undertone of sadness. Perhaps she had been insensitive, she thought. Her remark about her missing Vallaslin might not have been very compassionate to a non-Dalish Elf. She never meant to imply that she considered herself less now, and by extension, him.

She wanted to say something when the sincerity in his eyes took her breath away. Averting his eyes from her face, he let them glide over her body, and a smile reappeared on his lips. Perhaps it wasn't her Vallaslin at all that made him react this way? The dress was a design sketched by him, after all. It was different than anything she had worn in the fade, more formal with the decorated armour added to it.

"By the way... Hope you had a nice night." Dorian said rather spitefully, but softly, so only they could hear him. It earned him a chuckle from Solas. "I could have told on you," he added in a soft hiss.

"And what would that have accomplished?" Solas said quietly, amused. "You enjoyed your private time."

"Seeing you less smug would have been an accomplishment," he shot back.

"But dear Dorian, you are mistaken here," Ennaly said softly, a smile on her face. "He wouldn't have cared if you all knew. This is a personal favour to me. And I am very grateful for your sacrifices."

Dorian made a clucking noise between dismay and defeat.

Their attention was caught away when Cullen emerged at the top of the stairs, the last person still missing from the group. He looked like a prince from a Human tale, with black boots, white breeches, and a black jacket with a half cape over his left shoulder, with purple lining and golden embroidery all over. Seemingly uncomfortable, he descended the stairs with uncertain steps.

"Very dashing, Commander," Leliana commented with barely disguised glee. "The court will certainly swoon."

He didn't seem to take much comfort in that. Ennaly saw his eyes glide over her, and his expression softened for a moment. She looked away, remembering she had to dance with him. Should she have said anything to him about Solas, even if they never had discussed... Whatever it had been, months ago?

With everyone present, the servants helped them tie on their masks. They were quite similar, fitted for their respective faces, all made out of white porcelain with golden filigree. In the centre of the forehead shone the Inquisition's symbol like a third eye of gold. To signify their status, the masks of Ennaly and the advisors had a small plume of purple feather sprouting above the eye, and Ennaly's own mask had painted purple lines, perfectly mimicking her now-hidden Vallaslin. That way she could still feel Dalish.

They bade the Comtesse goodbye. She wouldn't join, claiming her constitution wasn't what it had been once. She had offered her carriages for the Inquisition's use, her personal one for Ennaly and her advisors, and her secondary one for the rest of the party. The soldiers would accompany them on horseback.

Luckily, the drive to the Winter Palace wasn't too long, but Josephine fretted with repeating all their plans to every last detail.

"Relax, Josey!" Leliana remarked. "You almost make us think the Imperial Court is a greater threat than the assassination!"

"You very well know it might be," Josephine sighed. "How we present to the court is a matter of life and death. It is no simple matter of etiquette and protocol. Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness."

"Thanks, I could really do with an invigorating chat," Ennaly stated, but she kept a smile on her face. If she kept telling herself that everything was fine, she might start believing in it.

"Josey," Leliana shushed. "We've been over this. We have prepared as well as we could. Besides, we have our secret weapon." Ennaly and Cullen looked at her, wondering if they missed some debriefing. "You, Inquisitor. Your dancing is our secret weapon."

"No pressure," Ennaly sighed as the walls and towers of Winter Palace loomed ahead of them, silencing all. They had arrived.

It was imposing, luxurious, extravagant, a gilded beauty that felt artificial, like the many nobles strolling the gardens. Danger dressed in silks and velvet, masked with insincerity.

With a steeling breath, Ennaly exited the carriage, flanked by Inquisition soldiers and followed by her advisors. She recognised the man waiting in front of the fountain by his mask and the plume he wore. A single yellow feather, the symbol of the Chevaliers. This man had invited them, and he was the reason Ennaly had to dance in the opening dance of the Ball, for this was Grande Duke Gaspard de Chalons, one of the two main parties of the peace talks.

Only the lower part of her face was visible, and she conjured her most charming smile, the best armour she could wear this evening. She stepped closer, taking care to emphasise the elegance in her appearance.

Surprised gasps echoed around them, followed by hushed whispers, but Ennaly kept her eyes on the yellow-plumed man and curtseyed.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor Lavellan," Gaspard said with a flourishing bow, holding out his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, your Highness. I am grateful for this invitation," she replied as Gaspard kissed her hand. His moustache tickled even through the gloves she wore.

There was a smile on his lips, and he didn't even try to hide it as he eyed her up and down, making Ennaly wonder what he really thought of her. "I have heard much of the Inquisition's accomplishments. Imagine what you could accomplish with the full support of the rightful Emperor of Orlais!" His laugh was clear, only with a hint of artifice.

Oh, he was charming, or liked to present himself as such. "And which one was the rightful one, again, your Highness?" she replied with a sweet smile. Josephine had told her he would appreciate wit.

He laughed and bowed again, and suddenly, Ennaly understood the masks. There was something about seeing the glint of an eye through a shadowy socket in a still mask that was exciting. She almost felt drunk, without having had a sip of alcohol.

"The handsome, charming one of course, Inquisitor. I am not a man who forgets his friends. You help me, I'll help you. My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?"

And there it was, the heart of why he had invited her. A factor of shock. Ennaly tried to tune out the whispers around her and conjured another charming smile. "The hateful usurper and the Dalish savage," she said pleasantly. "I cannot imagine the court has ever seen a pair like us." An Elf dangling on the arm of a Duke like bait.

He laughed. She could see his white teeth. "You are a woman after my own heart, my lady," he said as he offered her his arm. Ennaly shot a look over her shoulder, and spotted Josephine, who silently signalled her so far so good. She nodded back and placed her gloved hand on Gaspard's arm, after which he started to lead her through the garden. "As a friend, perhaps there is a matter you could undertake this evening. This Elven woman Briala – I suspect that she intends to disrupt the negotiations."

Ennaly had a feeling that she would play a large role in the events of this evening. "You would ask an Elven woman to investigate another Elven woman based on mere suspicion?" Ennaly asked, looking up to Gaspard as they walked.

He observed her keenly through his mask and his smile faltered just a little bit. "It is no mere suspicion. She has resources and dare I say – wit. My cousin had her arrested for crimes against the empire to cover up a political mistake. And if anyone in this place wishes Celene harm, Inquisitor, it's that Elf. She certainly has reasons."

Why is it that Elves always have to pay for political mistakes? She tried to read Gaspard's eyes through the mask, but couldn't manage. "I appreciate the information, your Highness. I will see what I can do."

Another bow. "Be as discreet as possible. I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains."

"And you would rather see yourself regarded as the hero?" she asked.

"I shall leave the heroics to the Herald of Andraste, shall I?" he replied with a water-clear laugh as he led them up the stairs and through gilded gates. To the left and right, more nobles stared at them with wicked eyes through their masks. But whatever else, Ennaly had done it, had successfully crossed the threshold of the Winter Palace and nothing bad had yet happened. Gaspard turned his head to her to reveal a smirk, pleased with the reactions she was invoking.

They entered the Ballroom. It was more ice-cold gilded beauty in marble, gold and blue. Ennaly dared to look behind her as they waited for the announcer to gather the correct scroll. They were all there, the advisors and her friends, either looking around the ballroom or looking at her.

Solas appeared... oddly relaxed. There was something in his posture, some ease beneath the quiet confidence, that he usually only expressed in the Fade. It was rather strange, she thought. She had expected him to dislike everything about this.

Gaspard pulled on her arm as it was time for them to make their entrance. Ennaly granted Solas a final smile and received a devious one back. Encouraged, she focussed on the sight in front of her. They descended the steps to the sunken dancefloor and Ennaly held her head high and her back straight as their titles were called out. Her eyes didn't leave the Empress in front of them and she wasn't sure if she imagined Celene's lip tightening for just a second upon seeing her. She certainly had to keep herself from tightening her own lips. This was the woman who was responsible for the devastation they had witnessed the previous day in the alienage.

"Did you see their faces? Priceless," Gaspard chuckled, pulling her attention back to the room. The other Inquisition members were introduced as they made their way onwards, and Ennaly chuckled softly at Cassandra's displeasure for her long name, when Solas was introduced.

"The Lady Inquisitor's Elven serving man, Solas."

What? How rude, that was not what she had suggested. Who had changed this? She wanted to look around at him for reassurances, but she couldn't, not with the eyes of the court upon them.

She was introduced to the Empress, and to Gaspard's sister Duchess Florianne. She took extra care to speak the correct words, taking care to complement their surroundings, but phrased in such a way that she complimented Halamshiral more than the Winter Palace itself. If there were Elven servants nearby, they would understand her double-worded message.

Halamshiral meant "end of the journey" in Elven, and they had to ensure it would not become prophetic for the Empress. Ennaly understood that she didn't have to like her to see her importance. Celene bowed, and Ennaly wondered what the woman really thought of her, or if she had any idea of the danger she was in.

"We look forward to watching you dance, Inquisitor," the Empress ended their introduction. The woman had likely said it in jest, that she would enjoy seeing her make a fool of herself, but Ennaly would be the last to laugh.

The band played a plucky tune as the first set of dancers took place on the dancefloor. As the main subjects of the peace talks, the reason the ball was hosted, Gaspard and Celene would be performing the opening dance. That meant that Ennaly, as Gaspard's invitee, would be required to dance too, together with Comte Pierre of Halamshiral as Celene's dance partner.

Ennaly shot a quick look at the others while she waited for the Empress to descend the stairs. Solas seemed to not have cared about his introduction and still appeared at ease like before. He shot her an encouraging smile when he saw her looking.

"Let's give them another show, shall we, Inquisitor?" Gaspard said as Celene and Pierre joined them.

Ennaly smiled. "I hope you dance as well as they say you fight, your Highness."

A laugh. "The same goes for you, my lady."

She took his offered hand as the music started. Gaspard was a practised dancer, that was clear, but just as he proclaimed he despised the Game, dancing did not seem a great pleasure to him. As a result, his dance was an act of the mind, rather than of the heart.

Who would have ever thought that she, a Dalish mage, would be dancing in the Winter Palace at the hand of a Grand Duke, with an Empress and a Comte sharing the floor with her? She could only give it her best. She knew how to arch her neck so it elongated, she knew the subtle movements she could make with her body so the dance turned from an exercise to elegance. Her skirts twirled around as she spun, revealing her bare feet and ankles, adorned with golden medallions tied with purple ribbons.

She heard the crowd murmuring with surprise.

"You dance better than I expected," Gaspard said to her, guiding her around.

"And you dance exactly how I expected, your Highness," she replied.

He chuckled. "Is that praise or disappointment, my lady?"

Words were ammunition. They had to be sharp, well-aimed, but cloaked. "That depends on your final steps, your Highness."

He laughed softly, and as the final tunes of the song sounded, he held out his arm and she spun, her skirts fanning out unobstructed, before he pulled her back again with a few measured steps and dipped her back. The steps he made were deliberately chosen. They might look simple, but Ennaly's dancing teacher had taught them to her and she knew they required skill. Gaspard might despise it, but he played this well.

Excited applause sounded.

"I shall declare it... adequate," she said with a conjured smile, as Gaspard took her hand for a kiss.

"You are more amusing than I anticipated, Inquisitor," he responded. "Your advisors trained you well. Your performance so far is almost impeccable. I do not regret inviting you, my lady. If this evening ends at least adequately, I can see a prolonged alliance. We shall see each other at a later time."

He bowed and left the dancefloor. Ennaly curtsied to the Empress as the woman left as well, but not before she saw a look of curiosity shining through her mask. Would she consider her a threat? Deep down, Ennaly thought she wouldn't mind if this woman had to pay for her crimes.

The band played a soft tune as an intermezzo and Ennaly only had a few moments to collect herself before new couples flooded the dancefloor. She knew she had to dance with Cullen, planned so they had a moment to discuss anything that might have come up. Spotting him from the distance, she could see the looks he received from the court. Perhaps they were a little too positive.

"How are you so far?" he asked, a little anxious as he found his way towards her.

"Well enough," she shrugged as a reply. She would rather not stop to consider her emotions while she was in such a veiled hostile environment.

She heard the whispered insults from nearby couples. "Do I really have to share the dancefloor with a rabbit? You can put them in a pretty dress, that doesn't change where they belong."

Ennaly was glad for the make-up to hide her flush, but she saw anger growing in Cullen's eyes. Quickly, she grabbed his hands to pull them in a different direction. "We knew this would happen, it is fine," she whispered urgently. She had recognised the mask of a noble, and knew what their ideas were.

"I wouldn't mind her scrubbing my bedroom, if you know what I mean," another noble whispered nearby.

"That Commander can join, he is so handsome," his dancing partner added.

Cullen's grip on Ennaly's hand tightened in discomfort. "I hate Orlesians," he muttered and Ennaly silently agreed. At another combined insult and objectification, Cullen looked like he would personally strangle the next person to speak up.

The music started, and Ennaly took the lead. "It's nothing that I'm not used to. In a circle Elves and Humans might have been treated equally, but not... not out here. I don't let it affect me, and I suggest you do the same. Let's just discuss what we know so far," she quickly added before the moment would lose its purpose.

Ennaly led the dance, and Cullen had enough mastery to follow her along. She thought they must look good together, a matching colour scheme, and as they spun around, her skirts and his cloak fanned out, creating a full circle together. Quietly, they discussed the rumours they had gathered so far. The private wing was closed off, which was curious, and rumours emerged from the servant's quarters. Cullen ended by saying Leliana heard about an apostate at court having private dealings with the Empress. He sighed. "Josephine and Leliana are pleased, at least, with how things are going so far."

And that was more than they could have hoped for. Without much more to discuss, Ennaly allowed herself some fun with a dancing partner she trusted, before she had to switch back to the nobles.

"We'll meet later," she said as the tunes of the song faded away to another intermezzo. Cullen bowed to her, and for a moment, he appeared uncertain if he had to kiss her hand like Gaspard had done. In the end, he decided against it and took his leave. Ennaly's hand instead was whisked away by the next noble, and with annoyance, she realised it was the one just saying he wouldn't mind her scrubbing his bedchambers. Up ahead, Cullen declined a dance from the man's partner. With a deep breath, she smiled graciously to the noble.

For the next few dances, she chatted with her partners, who ranged from frivolous, to gracious, to a creepy lord who couldn't keep his hands to himself. Trying to make the best of it, she gathered information, could vouch for the Inquisition's cause, and overheard rumours from other dance pairs on the floor. It was more than enough to relay to Leliana when she was done.

She bowed to Comte Pierre, her last dance partner, and left the dancefloor. She had to return later, but in the meantime, she could sneak around the palace to find out more about the assassin.

The main thing on her mind, however, was finding Solas.

She moved between nobles, stopped to chat where she saw an opportunity, listened to gossip, and ignored all negative comments and japes. Recognising the masks was a great help in knowing where to pause to talk and whom to pass.

She met Bull, who was enjoying the food on offer. "I have something for you, Boss," he said as he handed her a note. "I found it lying around. Something from our Grande Duke. Let me know when it's time to get in action, I'll keep my eye on things from here."

She thanked him and read the note. It discussed Briala, and a weapon at her disposal that could turn the tide in every war? No wonder Gaspard asked to keep an eye out on the woman. Ennaly tucked the note away and continued. Ready to turn the corner to the next corridor, she was startled by a familiar voice to her left.

"There are rumours echoing in these hallways about an Elf on the dancefloor, surprising all with grace and skill."

Ennaly turned around and found Solas casually leaning against a pillar in a dark corner, his eyes glinted at her through the mask. He held a glass of dark red liquid and wore a smile as if he owned the world.

"The rumour is spread by servants and nobles alike," he continued as he placed his glass on the pillar next to him. He shot a look into the hallway, deemed it alright, and pulled Ennaly closer into the dark corner. "You are making impressions, vhenan."

She didn't mind it when his fingertips grazed the bare skin of her back underneath her curls. "You are more comfortable here than I would have expected," she said, breathless by his confident ease. "They were so rude when they introduced you."

He chuckled. "A title means nothing to me, my heart. I find this place an interesting change of scenery. You are irresistible and I do adore the heavy blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events."

She stared at him, and she never found him more alluring than she did now. With a gracious move and demanding confidence, Solas turned them around, trapping Ennaly between him and the wall, shielding her from view if someone were to pass. "You play the Game beautifully, vhenan," he said in a low voice.

She arched her face upwards, her breath shallow. In this moment, she wanted nothing more than be kissed in this dark corner and forget about everything else. With his body pressed against her, one hand at her neck and the other at her waist, he leaned in. She could feel his breath on her lips, the scent of sweet wine mixing with the woody scent of oils, but the promise of a kiss was broken as his lips did not meet hers.

Instead, he leaned back. Her eyes fluttered open almost angrily at his unresolved tease, but he placed a finger against her lips, silencing her before she spoke. When he pulled the finger back, she saw the pink marks of lipstick on his skin.

Of course. She was wearing make-up.

"It is almost cruel to tease me like that, ma'arlath," she breathed as he kissed her gloved hand instead.

He smiled a wicked smile and gestured to the whispering servants who carried platters of canapes. "I wonder how masked men live their lives without ever seeing that servants have an entire society of their own."

"I, however, am very interested in that society," Ennaly replied, seeing two servants exchange a few words.

Solas smiled, and showed a note he had tucked away in his pocket. "I thought you would. I already did some snooping around. This might be of interest."

Ennaly took the letter, which had names of servants written on it, signed by Briala. Surprised, she looked up to Solas. "That's the second time I see her name on paper. Bull also found an interesting note. Let's get the others, they might have found even more. I think it is time for some more sneakery. I'm curious to meet this Briala woman, aren't you?"